Rage: The artificial homunculus The beginning
by XIIIBlackCatXIII1
Summary: A girl named Icchan has been a living experiment for her mad father for eleven years. The prologue for more to come.


"Now be a good little girl..." an ominous voice pierced the air.

Icchan struggled, trying to get out of the wrist and leg restraints her father had placed on her. Her eyesight hazy and blurry, all she could see was a figure in a white lab coat and glasses with light reflecting off of them. "You're doing well daughter." he said caringly, stroking her purple hair. "No father... please..." she begged. "No more... no more..." He buckled a neck restraint on her and forced her arm his way, flicking bubbles out of a syringe. "It will only hurt a bit." She shook her head vigorously. "No. NO! FATHER PLEASE!" and he inserted it into her vein, pushing the red liquid into her. Icchan began to scream. Arching her back and trying to toss and pull away.

Her father smiles and places the syringe on the rusted surgical tray next to him. Icchans body limp and her head rolled to the side. The only thing able to move are her eyes. He looms over her and opens her eyes more, shining a light into them. "Good... very good." he whispered. Her eye color went from brown to a steadily changing red.

"You're taking this way better than your mother."

/mother...? did he do something to her? is that why she ran away?/ she thought. Her breathing became faster and she screamed. "Father! What are you doing to me?!" she yelled out in pain. "WHERE'S MOTHER AT?" He placed his gloved hand over her mouth. "Shhhh... girl, it's okay. You're mother is fine." He took another syringe and injected it again. Dose after dose he gave her and soon Icchan's body is unable to respond.

/father...mother.../ she began thinking. /what's... going...on.../ she trailed off and her eyes closed. Her body completely shut down and she passes out.

"nnnggg..." Icchan regains conciousness as she hold her head. Opening her eyes she looks at the ceiling in her bedroom. "AAHHH!" she places her hands over her eyes and curls up into a ball. The stinging and burning too much for her to handle. "What's going on...?" She jumped up from her bed to run to the mirror. "I'm pale." she whispers and she touches her face and when she got closer to the mirror, horrified, she picks it up and slams it on the floor.

"No..." she backs up, shaking. "No. It can't be..." she walks back over to the shards of glass and picks a piece up. "My...my eyes..." she stares at herself and a tear wells up. "A-AH!" she winces and drops the shard. "It hurts..." she wipes the tear only to notice it was blood. "Why father?" she sat in the corner of her bedroom, her knees to her chest. Icchan rests her head on her knees. "What did I do wrong...?"

Knock knock knock. She can hear the outside lock on her door turn and the door open. "Girl, are you okay? I heard a cra-..." he looks at the broken glass then to her. Seeing the blood on her hand. "Sweet, sweet daughter of mine." He strolled over to her and lifted her chin.

"What did you do to me father?" she asked. "My eyes. They're red..." Her father smiles. "Why yes, Icchan, they are red. And they look beautiful on you." He kisses her forehead and then looks at his watch. "You have 20 minutes before you come into the Lab again." she nods. "Good girl." he whispers and kisses her forehead again. "Be there." and he shut the door. "This time..." he called from outside "Don't wear anything but your underwear."

Icchans eyes widened. "But father...!" She yelled. "DO NOT DISAPPOINT ME." he said roughly. Her head lowered. "Yes, Sir..."

Icchan shivers as she covered herself and walked down the creaking stairs. "Father... why did you want me like this?" She makes her way to the bottom and turn to the left and looks at the cellar door under the stairs. She takes a deep breath and turns the brass knob. "F-father...?" she asked.

"Come down here, my child." she heard him say.

She walks down a smaller flight of stairs to enter the large lab-like room. Instead of seeing an operation table she sees a chair. Not the usual sitting up chair, but the chair where you sit with your back exposed. Icchan gulps at the look of it. /what the.../ she though. "Father... what's this?" He didn't answer. He just continued setting up some surgical accessories on the previous rusted tray. A scalpel... a razor sharp scooper... "Father what is this? What are you doing?"

He walked over to her and grabbed a fistful of her hair and she reached up to try and pry him off her. Not caring her breasts were exposed. "Father!" She screamed and he shoved her onto the chair, and with fast pace he strapped her down. Her face to the side and he used a leather strap over her forehead. Icchan began sobbing. "Father stop. Please... whatever you're about to do stop..." Not being able to see anything he was doing, all she felt was a sharp searing pain on her back. Screaming loudly and crying, the pain unbearable.

Her father took the scalpel, heated with a bunsen burner, he branded the outline of a snake eating its tail into her skin. She can feel the blood surface into little beads before he took the razor scoop and began carving out the inside of the design, blood slowly pouring on the floor. He took a small bowl and filled it with her blood, and set it to the side. Then continued carving. She screams louder and louder until her voice goes out. The procedure takes a little over an hour to do, her father placed the bloody tools onto the tray.

Icchans bloody tears run down her cheeks and her breathing becomes more unpredictable. Her eyesight once again fading in and out. Just when she thought he was done he slathered something over the mark. "f-father..." she said just below a whisper.

"Don't worry, I am preserving my artwork on you. It will never heal. But you won't bleed out like before. I have mixed a large amount of poison and herbs to help keep the blood in." he said, smiling. "Blood...?" she asked. "Yes my dear. The red inside this mark is not ink of any sort. It is your own blood. This mark I have put on you is called the 'ouroboros'. It's a symbol of rebirth and ever lasting life. You will have it with you forever."

/forever./ she thought. /forever.../

He releases the straps and helps her stand, then cups her stained cheek and looks at her through the shine in his glasses. "You know I will always love you. No one else will love me as much as I love you." He kisses her forehead again and she nods. "I know... I... love you too father..."

He smirks. "Good girl. Now go back up stairs." Icchan stumbles, the poison taking over her body and she makes her way up the stairs and closes the door behind her. She slinks down the door, the wood pressing against the fresh wound and she breaks down and cries.

After a couple minutes of sobbing, Icchan stands up to look at the now locked cellar door. She touches it and gasps. Her nails are black, no pinkness to be seen. "What the..." she looks at her other hand. "What is he doing to me...?" She backs away from the door shaking and runs upstairs to the bathroom, turning the faucet to the tub on.

Brushing her hair to the side and tying it with a hair tie, she looks behind her at the full body mirror and sees the mark. Gross looking, red and somewhat infected. /it will never heal./ she remembers him saying and shakes her head. "No. It will heal. It will." She removes the cotton blood stained panties and sticks one foot into the tub and then submerges herself. /I'm tired of this.../ she thought. And reached under the ledge of the tub and pulls out a rusted razor and slices down her arm. "Maybe if I die... it will all be over." she does this repeatedly until the water is a deep red. She sighs and relaxes in the tub, one arm on each side of the tub. Blood dripping into the drain in the middle of the room.

An hour later she opens her eyes. /I'm dead... right?/ She sits up and looks around. "I'm dead. I have to be... down the road... not across the street." she repeats, and looks at her arm. Her eyes widened. "Where did they go?!" she exclaims, examining her arm. "Where're the cuts? The blood? Where? WHERE?!" Icchan looks at the water, still red. She peeks over the tub sides and sees blood all over the floor, the razor where she left it. "It.. can't be."

"So it worked." she heard coming from the direction of the door. Icchan looked and her father stood in the doorway.

"Father, I am not dead. I did it right. I shouldn't be here!" she yelled from the tub. Icchan shivered, the water is cold. "F-f-father..." He handed her a ragged towel. She took it and stood up, covering herself; still shivering. He smiled and turned his back to walk down the stairs. /what is going on?/ she thought.

She replays all the torture in her mind. All eleven years, since she was 13. Being bound and experimented on. She goes to her room and quickly threw on a dirty, tattered white gown and made her way down stairs. Seeing the cellar door open she makes her way down the short flight of stairs. "Father?" She asked and she saw him hunched over a box. Then a mad cackling came from him, the cackling turned into a maniacal laugh. "IT WORKED!" he exclaimed. "ALL THESE YEARS OF WORKING!" He turns to her with a grin. "You, my wonderful dear daughter... you survived." He walked slowly towards her, she backed up. She backed up just enough to knock over some beakers and cylinders and corner herself at a table. "Survived?" she questioned. "What do you mean 'survived'?"

He pointed behind her. "She... she didn't make it. Your mother..." Icchan peeked over her shoulder, horrified now realizing it was the outline of a body underneath that white sheet.

Icchan gulped as she stared at the sheet. "Father... that's not really mother... is it?" He nodded, with no expression at all. "Go ahead." he said. "Pull back that sheet." She shook her head. "N-no. I can't..."

"DO IT!" he demanded and she jumped. Nodding she pulled back the sheet from over her dead mothers' corpse. Icchan stood there, her eyes filled with tears at the sight of her. "Mother...?" The corpses' face is mangled and sunken in. Dried out, like it's been there for a good while. Icchan's heart races as she turns to her father, crying. "WHY?!" she screamed. "We were so happy together! Why father?!" Icchan said through her tears. "You told me she ran away! You told me she LEFT us!"

Her father lowered his head and laughed. "I am a monster, dearest daughter." He walked to her and Icchan walked around him. "Now you... you're a monster. You cannot die. Only live... You will see how terrible this world is." Icchan reaches behind her and picks up a rusted scalpel. "I am not the monster... I am not... like... YOU!" she charges at him and in a split second she remembers her mother's smile, the happiness that there once was. Icchan opens one eye and gasps. Looking at her hands, the scalpel knuckle deep into her fathers heart. He coughs and blood runs down the corner of his mouth.

"I..." he began "I knew this day would come..." Her father coughed up more blood and hold her hands, still on the weapon. "I love you... I will always love you... my little abomination..." he touches her face with his blood soaked hands, staining her cheek crimson. He falls to his knees as she lets go of the scalpel in his heart. Icchan backs up and collapses to her knees on the floor a few feet away from him. His arms by his side as he slumps over and slowly falls to the side dead.

She crawled to him. ''Father...?" she whispered, touching his face. "Father are you listening...?" She used both hands to push him on his back. She got a confused look on her face when she saw that his body was smiling. "You... never loved me..." Icchan looked up at the table where her mothers' remains laid. "Mother. You have been avenged..."

Hours later Icchan dug two graves, one for her mother and one for her father. Her gown dirty and bloody from digging. She stuck the shovel in the ground and wiped her brow. "Huh?" She looked up and saw the clouds turn a dark grey and it began to rain. "Hmm..." she began and then shrugged her shoulder. Becoming soaked from the water, she makes her way up the hill towards the dark and gloomy mansion. Icchan looks back at the graves and looks back up. Rain pouring onto her face. "This... is just the beginning." she whispered and continued to walk up the path to the house.


End file.
